


Red

by LilianaVale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Multi, Past, Religious Conflict, Time Period: 1800s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilianaVale/pseuds/LilianaVale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about Beacon Hills, that made people stay, was that despite everything, they had always persevered. For many years the thought that they needed to overcome this hell on earth had been engraved in their minds. Countless religious men had come to the town and preached about how brave and resilient they were, how they stayed keeping the other villages safe, how they would be rewarded in heaven...it all happened for a reason, God knew what he was doing and if he had brought them this trial it was because they needed to rise above it.</p>
<p>What none of them had said was that Beacon Hills was the barrier that stopped the werewolves from going to other villages. What the townspeople didn’t know was that they were the meat that others threw at the wild beasts in hopes they would be entertained enough to not attack them instead.<br/>They didn’t know that once one hundred years ago, three families had decided that their lives were worth more than an eternity in heaven for their bravery, and that they had been murdered...by human hands.</p>
<p>Mostly, what the people of Beacon Hills did not know was what was really beyond the clearing. </p>
<p>Soon, a chance encounter would change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Hopefully you'll like this very AU fanfiction and that you won't be put off by the setting. I really don't know much about life in the 1800s so sorry about any innacuracies but lets just say it's because it's an AU...There are werewolves in it after all, it's an alternate universe. Derek is not in this first chapter, because it's a setting up chapter for the characters and the town of Beacon Hills, but this IS a Sterek fanfiction. You'll just need to wait for the second chapter for Derek's first appearance. Also, you will hopefully not be put off by my style of writing. I'm also not a native speaker so I apologize for my grammar in advance.
> 
> Thank you for reading.

“But if no one has gone and returned, how do we know what happens there?” The priest sighed, rather loudly and rubbed at his temples, trying not to lose his patience, once again. He hadn’t signed up for this, that was for sure. When he had come to Beacon Hills, a small village surrounded by miles of virgin forests, he was promised good wages and a good-sized congregation. No hassles, no extra tasks for him to take on except guide the people of the small village to a life of sanctity. Oh how he had been lied to.

The people of Beacon Hills needed more help than a simple priest could give them. They needed the help of the whole church and everything it had to offer, plus the king’s army. Father Finstock had lost track of the times he had found himself in danger of losing it, and of the times he had tried to leave the village.

The problem was... he had been forbidden to do it. Every village needed a figure of religious authority and Finstock was Beacon Hills’. He had even begged his bishop to put him in some other town, but his pleas had been unanswered. 

Yes, father Finstock was sure his days were numbered...after all, the last two priests had been murdered. He would be done for soon too, he was sure of it and yet he wished that it was that simple, that there was just a really evil murderer on the loose in the village and that was all he had to deal with.

The bishop said it was that. He said that Finstock would be smarter than his predecessors and would be able to outsmart whoever the person was. He also looked very guilty when he said those things, and the priest knew exactly why.

Everyone was aware there was no mass murderer in Beacon Hills, because everyone knew what lurked beyond the clearing. Clawed and fanged, monstrous beasts who kidnapped the townspeople and devoured them. Werewolves.

Of course, no one outside of the village seemed to believe them, and even if they did, no one had been sent to help them. The people of Beacon Hills were on their own... and they needed to keep their faith to deal with such troubled times.

That’s where father Finstock came in. He carried on with his religious services and tried to help people and put a smile on their faces, despite being scared to death on the inside every full moon. He studied the village’s history and the ancient myths and legends, all talking about the werewolves, how they came to the town, how to get rid of them, how horrible and bloodthirsty they were and then he informed the people and tried to keep them safe. Most of them were happy to be guided, to keep their faith and live their lives from day to day, knowing that although it was a life of hardship, it was the one that God had given them, for a reason.

“But if no one has gone and returned, how do we know what happens there?” 

And then there was Stiles Stilinski.

______________________________________  
Stiles had lived in Beacon Hills all his life, and all that time he had the feeling that not everything was as it seemed. Well, of course things were different from other villages - they had a considerable amount of werewolves roaming around the surrounding forests - but there was something more, in the air...Something that Stiles was sure was even worse than the furred creatures. 

Of course, his suspicions could be a direct consequence of his everlasting crush on Lydia Martin and his eagerness to please her. She was actually the one always going about how things in Beacon Hills needed to be looked at with a critical and scientific eye, while he just basked in the glorious sight of her red hair. He liked to hear her anyway, and after years of listening he had started to believe in what she said. Lydia was probably the smartest person he knew anyway, smarter than any man too. Most just looked at her looks and desired her for them, but not Stiles, oh no...He wanted her for her brain...he liked to think he was progressive! He also happened to like her soft, red hair.

On this particular day, Stiles had been thrown out of class by his ears. Father Finstock was not happy with his question and although he could really only blame himself, the seventeen year old knew that he had only done it because Lydia had mentioned it the day before. Stiles wanted to test her theory that no one wanted to really think critically about the land beyond the clearing. He was pretty sure that she was wrong actually... after all werewolves did kill people, they weren’t cuddly little puppies, but she ultimately had a point. There were dozens upon dozens of books about what happened in the land of werewolves and yet, how did people know, if no one ever returned to tell the tale?

Stiles did think the reason for that was that they were eaten, just like the stories told. Still, he was at least going to try and help Lydia with her theories, because he had an open mind. He also would very much like to kiss her. Totally not hypocritical. 

Rubbing his ears and cursing under his breath, Stiles looked around at the empty hallway of the school and shook his head slightly. He had always hated the old, cold building filled with religious motifs and figures all over the walls. Scott had told him that the large crucified Jesus right at the end of the hall gave him the creeps every time he walked by and Stiles really had to agree. The Jesus on the cross looked like he was in agony, which of course was understandable, he was nailed to it, but he also looked eerily alive. His eyes seemed to follow the students around and his wounds seemed so real that Stiles sometimes tried not to walk below the figure, in fear that blood would drip onto his head. 

Religion wasn’t the thing that scared Stiles, it was the followers. He had witnessed people around the village going to extremes because of what they believed in and he had hated it with all that he had. Lydia did too, but this wasn’t something he did because of her, this was something he really felt. So did Scott... and so had Isaac, before he was taken by the werewolves. 

Erica didn’t. That girl was so into religion that she walked around hunched over, holding her rosary and praying all the way. Stiles had no idea why she prayed so much and what she could possibly have done to warrant so much penance, but the fact was that she did. He didn’t like Erica much...but then again she returned the feeling.

Not a lot of people liked him, if he was to think it over. Scott did but people didn’t like him either anyway, so he didn’t have a choice. Of course, their dislike for Stiles and Scott had very different reasons. They didn’t like the first because he was a noisy, annoying little thing, they didn’t like the latter because he was half-mexican. It didn’t matter that his father was a scottish man (it probably made it worse), all that mattered to the people of beacon hills was that Scott was not like the rest of them. They all loved Erica though, and she was spanish...but she was also, blond. 

Stiles didn’t care about where Scott and his mother were from though, and why should he? Scott was his best friend, who had never betrayed him and always put up with his shit. He was also one of the bravest people he knew. Stiles wasn’t going to stop his friendship just because the townspeople looked funny at them when they walked down the street. 

It helped that his father, the sheriff, didn’t care about it either. Why didn’t more people think like him though? Stiles sometimes wondered if people thought they were still in the 18th century. It was 1854, and it was time people stopped being so prejudiced. Times were changing for God’s sake, had none of them read Household Words by Charles Dickens? Granted he only had because Lydia had made him, but nevertheless the point still stood.

______________________________________

After school was over, and Stiles was released from the grasp of Father Finstock and his great sermon on not bothering your elders, Scott and him decided to pay Lydia a visit. Her mother was in the kitchen baking a cake and her father was, as usual, downstairs in his practice while the redhead called the attic her home. Lydia’s father was the town’s doctor and he had saved many lives throughout the years, which didn’t actually make him that popular. He was still thought as an eccentric man who didn’t know how to handle his family, nevermind how good he was at his job. Apparently letting his daughter dabble in science was a great sin. Not that he cared, judging by the fact he had built his genius daughter, her very own laboratory. 

It was there that Scott and Stiles found her, dissecting a bat. Lydia’s parents didn’t mind them being alone in the room with her because they knew their daughter very well and unlike so many, they thought her capable of making her own right choices.  
Her beautiful red hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she had a pair of very strange glasses on that tied up behind and on top of her head, making her look really funny. Still, the boys didn’t laugh, they had learned years ago that laughing at Lydia Martin while she was dissecting something and could throw a liver at your head, was not a good idea. 

“Hello.” She said, not even lifting her head to look at them and using a set of tongs to pull out the bat’s intestines and examining them. Stiles had the urge to puke and Scott looked like he wanted the exact same thing but neither of them said anything. “Well this was a waste of time!” Lydia declared after a few minutes and took off her gloves and strange looking glasses. “They didn’t turn blue at all. I need to prepare some other type of dye.” She continued though she was talking more to herself than the boys. She did that a lot, as far as Stiles knew...it made her more interesting in his eyes. He had also heard other boys talk about how they’d make her shut up and look pretty after they married her, but they didn’t love her like he did. Lydia was perfect, she could do anything she wanted after they were married...because they would be. Stiles had a plan.

Scott didn’t believe his best friend would be able to marry Lydia, but what did he know? He couldn’t see into his heart and see how deep his love was!

“Well? What are you two doing here today? Come to stare at me?” She said waking Stiles up from his daydream of two red haired kids and a nice house by the river. 

“Stiles wanted to visit you. He was sad he couldn’t come yesterday.” Stiles sometimes wanted to punch Scott for being so honest. There were times in a man’s life where he needed to sugarcoat the truth and not let his best friend look like he’s desperate. 

“I wanted to see how you were that’s all...I mean, last week...it was hard for all of us.” He watched as Lydia’s smirk faltered and she nodded.

It really had. Isaac had been friends with all of them and he had just been this sweet, shy kid that everyone liked and now he was gone. Stiles’ concern was actually genuine, this time, because he knew that sometimes Isaac had hidden out from his father at Lydia’s house. Mr. Lahey had a drinking problem and he liked to take it out on his son and while everyone in town knew this, only the Martins had helped him. 

“I...” Her voice broke slightly as she sat down on a stool close to the boys. “I miss him, really. He helped me sometimes... But Jackson’s been here you know? He’s been really good after the full moon...been trying to make me feel better.” Lydia smiled slightly and Stiles wanted to punch a wall. Scott seemed to realize it, as he always did and nudged him with his foot. It calmed him down.

Jackson was such a horrible human being. He went around complaining about everything and everyone and saying how he was better and would go places. His father was the mayor and as a consequence he was wealthier than everyone else in Beacon Hills, especially Scott and Stiles, and he never let them forget it. 

He also wanted Lydia... which didn’t really help his case with Stiles. Not that Jackson cared about his approval, he actually seemed to rather enjoy the hatefilled looks he got from the seventeen year old. Why Lydia actually liked Jackson, Stiles didn’t know, but he had to admit that there was only one person to whom he was actually nice and bearable and that was the redhead. Of course Stiles was sure that if they ever got married, Jackson would be an idiot again and treat Lydia like crap, totally not like he himself would.

Scott had once told him that he wasn’t giving Lydia enough credit and that he couldn’t possibly think he would be the only one that would be good for her. 

Stiles didn’t speak to Scott for a week as protest. 

_________________________________________

Two hours later, Scott had gone home and Stiles was trying to cook a very tough chicken that just wouldn’t soften up. It had been boiling for an hour and it was still chewy but it was the best he could do. His father would come home really soon and after a hard day being the law of Beacon Hills, he relied on Stiles to take care of things and prepare dinner. A lot of the boys at school made fun of him for it, and most people didn’t understand why the sheriff didn’t just remarry, but they didn’t know his dad. Stiles’ mother had been everything to him and he was still incapable of moving on. The teenager sometimes wished that he did though, because he hated seeing him so lonely, but he never pressed the issue, it didn’t seem right to do so. 

Stiles heard the door open and close and set the table. Their cutlery had definitely seen better days and most of their plates were chipped, but they had never really cared about that. Yes, the sheriff earned enough money to buy new things for their house, but he was saving it. He wanted to send Stiles somewhere other than Beacon Hills, give him an actual, good, education...and most of all, get him away from the town.

_______________________________________

The thing about Beacon Hills, that made people stay, was that despite everything, they had always persevered and they were, in lack of a better word, a stubborn bunch. For many years the thought that they needed to overcome this hell on earth had been engraved in their minds. Countless religious men had come to the town and preached about how brave and resilient they all were, how they stayed and kept the other villages safe from this horror, how they would be rewarded in heaven for their courage...how it all happened for a reason, that God knew what he was doing and if he had brought them this trial it was because they needed to rise above it.

What none of them had said was that Beacon Hills was the barrier that stopped the werewolves from going to other villages. What the townspeople didn’t know was that they were the meat that others threw at the wild beasts in hopes they would be entertained enough to not attack them instead.  
They didn’t know that once one hundred years ago, three families had decided that their lives were worth more than an eternity in heaven for their bravery, and that when they got far enough, they had been murdered in cold blood...by human hands.

Mostly, what the people of Beacon Hills did not know was what was really beyond the clearing. 

Soon, a chance encounter would change everything.


End file.
